


The Doctor's Shirt

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Flirting, PWP, Prompt Fic, Rose wearing the Doctor's clothes, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-12
Packaged: 2019-03-30 14:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13953132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: What happens when the Doctor discovers Rose wearing one of his shirts? Will he be able to resist and stay behind his firmly constructed barriers?





	The Doctor's Shirt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fadewithfury (foxmoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxmoon/gifts), [ofhopesanddreams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofhopesanddreams/gifts).



> This smutty little thing is for Rainstormlullaby and Fadewithfury. They both gave me wonderful prompts, and I decided to fill both of them together: Ten x Rose and "Is that my shirt?" and “You have no idea what you do to me.” 
> 
> It got a little out of control, but I hope you won't complain. ;) ;) ;)
> 
> Thanks to Crazygirlne for reading through it real quick.

Rose wanders into the galley and yawns loudly, threading fingers through her hair to comb out the tangles from a night of sleep. Without a glance around the room, she heads directly to the counter to prepare the kettle. 

The clutches of sleep still cloud her mind, but preparing tea is something she can do without any sort of mental strain. As the water boils, she walks to the fridge to pull out the milk, then jumps when the Doctor’s voice cuts through her bleary thoughts. 

“Is that my shirt?”

Rose blinks, then turns around slowly to face the Doctor.  _ Oh God.  _ She’d forgotten to change into sweats and a hoodie before leaving her room, and now the Doctor’s caught her wearing the dress shirt she’d knicked from his basket of freshly laundered clothes.

“Um, yeah,” she admits, bravely meeting the Doctor’s eyes. “I, uh…” She pauses, wondering if she should confess what she’d done. “I sorta stole it from your laundry.”

The Doctor stares at her a moment before shifting his gaze up and down her body, lingering a few seconds on her bare legs. When his eyes return to hers, she gasps in surprise. They’re dark, the warm chocolate brown of his irises black with some sort of unspoken heat. She must be imagining things.

She blushes further, despite herself, and the Doctor’s eyes drop to her chest, where she’d been too lazy to finish buttoning his shirt. They flick quickly back to hers, and his ears tinge pink. 

_ Could it be? _

Rose smiles, a slow sort of thing that starts with a twitch in the corner of her mouth and blossoms to the tongue-touched smile she knows makes him forget words. “Do you have a problem with me wearing your shirt, Doctor?”

The Doctor immediately reaches up and tugs on his left ear, tilting his head to the side as he clears his throat. “Nope. What’s mine is yours, Rose.” His cheeks pinken, making his freckles stand out, and Rose smirks. 

“So why’re you staring at me like you want to eat me for breakfast?” she asks, folding her arms across her chest, well aware that the action might just push her breasts up a little bit more. 

His eyes drop down to her chest, then immediately fly up to meet hers again. The hand on his ear moves to the back of his neck and rubs the hair there. The Doctor stares at her for several long moments, as if searching for some sort of hesitation, but Rose doesn’t look away. Doesn’t step back away from the daft alien she’s wanted for so long. 

“You have no idea what you do to me,” the Doctor finally whispers, letting his arm fall to his side where it hangs uselessly, as if he’s not quite sure what to do with it.

“Actually,” Rose says, taking a step closer to the Doctor and reaching for his tie, leading him toward her as she returns to the counter. “I do, but I never really believed it was real.” She pulls him toward her by his tie, letting out a little sigh when his hands settle naturally at her waist.  

“You do?” He looks down at her in surprise. 

Rose shifts so she’s more comfortably leaning against the counter, widening her stance so the Doctor settles between her legs. “Mmmhmm,” she answers, and gasps softly when the Doctor’s thumbs sneak under his shirt and fiddle with the waistband of her knickers. 

“I never thought seeing you in my shirt would make all my defenses come crumbling down. I have, ehm…” He pauses, swallowing heavily as Rose pulls his tie out of its knot, then clears his throat to continue. “I have very good reasons why we shouldn’t do this. A whole list of reasons why we shouldn’t.”

Pausing in her work, Rose looks up at the Doctor, more than a little astounded at his admission that he’s clearly thought this through before. “I know.” She bites her lip and looks away. His hands still on her waist as he waits for her to continue. “If you… if you want to stop and keep things the way they were, we… we can. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Rose.” He gently guides her face back in line with his, and the intensity of his gaze takes her breath away. “I think it’s too late to go back and pretend this didn’t happen. Don’t you agree?” His hand cups her cheek, and he runs his thumb across her bottom lip. 

“Yeah.” Rose leans into his hand and closes her eyes. “Yeah, I do.” 

When the Doctor’s lips brush against the corner of her mouth, her eyes fly open and she pulls her head away from his. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have–”

“Do it again,” Rose commands, rolling her eyes at the Doctor. “Kiss me again.” 

“Oh!” He hums a happy giggle as he leans back down and presses his lips gently against hers. 

It’s… better than she’d imagined. And  _ oh  _ had she imagined. 

Rose groans into the Doctor’s mouth and he steps closer, pressing close to her core, which already twinges with anticipation. Her hands grip tightly to each half of his tie, as if it offers a way to ground her to the moment. Lost in the sensation of the kiss, she blinks bearily when he pulls away. 

“Whaaa…?” 

The Doctor grins, a self-satisfied smirk, then in one smooth movement, lifts her to sit on the edge of the counter. He stays close, his mouth quickly finding hers again, and his hands inch slowly from her knees toward her bum. 

Spreading her legs in a natural movement to draw him ever closer, Rose feels her arousal spread through her veins. She needs him  _ now, _ but she’s content to wait, to linger in the perfection of this slow, agonizing pleasure of their first time together. 

By now, the Doctor’s fingers have reached the outer edge of her knickers, and he trails his fingers over her thighs until they rest just inches from where she wants him to touch. 

She pulls back to take a breath, resting her forehead against the Doctor’s and looks down to where his hand sits on her legs. The sight of him there, fingers hidden underneath his shirt, which is barely long enough to cover her thighs, sends a fresh surge of arousal through her, and she knows the Doctor senses it when he says her name, low and gravely, against her cheek. 

The Doctor moves one hand away from her center and cups her bum, but with the other, he teases his fingers under the edge of her knickers, then slides them underneath completely, coating his fingers with her wetness as he slides them from her core to her clit. Rose jumps slightly at the sensation, then spreads her legs to further invite the Doctor. 

Much to her disappointment, however, he pulls his fingers away, then sticks them in his mouth, sucking her arousal off his fingers. Rose bites her bottom lip at the Doctor’s obvious enjoyment of her juices, then leans back against the countertop, raising her hips in a not-so-subtle hint to the Doctor to remove her knickers. He catches on rather quickly, and in one smooth movement, removes the garment and throws it over his shoulder. 

Rose’s breath quickens as the Doctor studies her with a predatory gaze, but then he leans in and places a kiss on her lips so sweet that it contrasts with the heated electricity between them a moment before. His fingers land on the buttons of his shirt and work swiftly to undo them, but when she moves to shrug the shirt off her shoulders, he stops her. 

“No, keep it on. I want to see you fall apart in my shirt.” His eyes, dark and commanding, leave her speechless, and she can only nod. “Now, where were we? Oh yes.”

The Doctor kisses her once more, before planting several kisses along the edge of her jaw and moving down her neck. “Gods, Rose, you taste so good. All those human hormones mixed with your arousal, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop.” 

“So don’t.”

Rose whimpers under his touch, and her clit throbs, desperate for touch. She moves her hand to touch herself, but the Doctor stops her. “Please don’t,” he says, voice strained, and she moves her hand back to the counter, disappointed but excited for his touch.

The Doctor continues kissing his way down her torso, only briefly teasing the mounds of her breasts, somehow ignoring her nipples still hidden under his shirt, before reaching her belly button. He swirls his tongue inside it, and while doing so, places his hands on Rose’s knees and pushes her legs further apart. 

She’s completely bared to the Doctor, spread open and vulnerable, and she knows she’s slick with want and need. A younger Rose might have been embarrassed and self-conscious at finding herself in such a position, but this Rose, under the worshipful gaze and touch of the Doctor, feels  _ alive _ and filled with a strange sort of pride and power. This is Rose with the confidence found through her travels with the Doctor, through his constant conviction that  _ everyone _ is important and has worth.  _ Especially  _ Rose Tyler. 

Rose meets the Doctor’s gaze, and he smiles her favorite crooked smile at her. “You’re beautiful, Rose. All of you.” He leans down and trails his nose against her inner thigh, and Rose quivers against him.

“Doctor, please.” It’s just short of a whine, but she’s too keyed up to care. 

The Doctor slowly slips two fingers inside her center, moving in and out of her as if to test how ready she is for him. It’s almost embarrassing how little resistance he finds, and Rose throws her head back. “Now, Rose, I’d like to make you come so hard you see stars for days.”

She almost comes at his words, but manages – just barely – to hold back, waiting for his touch. “Go on, then,” she pants.

The Doctor returns two fingers inside her, then lowers his head and wraps his lips around her clit. One slide of his tongue against her is enough to send her flying over the edge. She cries out, trying not to clamp the Doctor’s head between her legs as she spasms around him. 

Once the final shockwaves have passed and her breathing has returned somewhat to normal, Rose focuses on the Doctor. He stands in front of her, his fingers in his mouth, looking deliciously rumpled. His hair sticks out in all directions, and his tie has almost completely fallen off his wrinkled shirt. Somewhere along the way, he shucked his pinstriped jacket, and Rose wonders how far gone she was not to notice. Another detail she’d failed to notice is the rather obvious tenting in the front of his trousers, and she allows her gaze to linger there a moment, licking her lips. 

She pushes herself up on the counter and exhales a shaky giggle. “Would’ve started stealing your clothes ages ago if this is what was gonna happen.” Her gaze focuses on his tie, and she smirks. “Might have to knick your tie, sometime, too. Can think of a few things to do with that.” 

The Doctor’s jaw drops, but he looks between her and the kettle. “Rose,” he starts, his voice sort of squeaky. “How desperate are you for your morning cuppa?”

Rose blinks, then laughs, having completely forgotten about her tea. “I think I found a more enjoyable way to wake up this morning, don’t you think?” She hops off the counter and envelops the Doctor in a hug, purposefully rubbing herself against his erection. “Now, don’t you think it’s time to continue this?”

“Excellent idea, Rose,” the Doctor answers, reaching down to squeeze her bum, before taking her hand and pulling her out of the galley. 

“Ten quid says we don’t make it to the bedroom,” Rose laughs. 

The Doctor smirks down at her. “Now that’s one bet I’m not set to win.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at goingtothetardis.tumblr.com!


End file.
